by Angela White
Marc stared at him in shock. The camp knew, and yet they trusted him enough to pretend they didn’t. Adrian only had the illusion of control! What did that mean?
Nothing, Marc realized. All leadership was an illusion. Wrapped around a tyrant, that image would eventually shatter on its own. In Adrian’s case, it was a mirage of complete confidence coating a fanatical patriot.
Is that so bad, Brady? We’ve been led by worse.
Marc blowing out a worried breath, but he refused to let her influence his choice either.
“I’m not here for that. I’m on duty.” She came from the shadows, sweeping Adrian the way the Eagles did.
Marc grimaced at the subtle warning that he was to be protected, not fought against. “Until Seth’s leg is stronger?”
“And even after. Sometimes, I can hear things they can’t.”
“I think the camp should be told everything. You, your father, the slavers attacking–all of it.”
“Go on.”
Marc frowned at Adrian’s calm answer. “What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one. I’ve always known it would come out and I have no intentions of running, from either group of survivors.”
Marc stared in disbelief. “They’ll kill you for it.”
I won’t let that happen!
Adrian ignored Angela’s silent words. “Yes.”
There was thick tension as Marc considered that. He’d thought maybe Adrian would have him removed or send Angela to try to change his mind. He hadn’t expected Adrian to own up to being the son of the man who’d caused the war.
Marc scanned the people again and Adrian waited, giving him time to accept what Angela, and the others who knew, already had. This was the only way.
“But it was your own men who caused the problems…” And that was why Zack was an Eagle, Marc realized. Keep your enemies closer.
“Yes. What would have happened if Zack hadn’t been one of mine?”
“A real riot.”
“Yes.”
He understood the reasoning, but it was the sight of his son that finally sent that truth into Marc’s heart. Matt and Charlie were on third shift duty in the mess, keeping the coffee flowing. He was calmly leading the other boy through what was expected of them, and happy.
After their day together, their secret viewing of the past, those feelings Marc had tried to keep down had grown instead. He loved that boy, but Charlie was only alive and happy because of Adrian’s manipulations. If not for being found by Safe Haven, would his son be dead right now?
And what about the rest of these people that he wanted to take the blinders from? How many of them would also be dead right now or slaves? Most, Marc answered his silent question reluctantly. He wanted to expose the lies, but when these people found out, they’d hang Adrian and run. All that happiness would be gone, for all of them. Just to ease his conscience. The scales weren’t even when he weighed them and Marc let go of his need to have Adrian out of control.
“So, how do we get them to fight?”
Adrian let out the breath he’d been holding. “You, Marc. You’ll get them to fight while we lure the main group out.”
Marc’s dismayed gaze went straight to Angela.
“Yes, I’m going.”
Marc steeled his heart against the panic. He’d vainly hoped she wouldn’t leave Charlie here to go play this role. “What’s first?”
Adrian didn’t quite dare to smile, lest he push the man into changing his mind. “I’ll tell you exactly how to make them work for you.”
“What if the slavers attack this camp instead of following?”
Adrian’s answer was grim. “Then get my people to the trucks and send ‘em out. At least they’ll have their lives and their freedom. It’s more than most victims of this war have ended up with.”
Pushing away his own needs, Adrian motioned toward the empty training tent. “You guys should steal a little time alone.”
While you can, he thought. Come tomorrow night, all of them would either be free or dead. Cesar’s call had been short and cruel, demanding the witch and camp be surrendered. When Adrian hadn’t agreed, the slaver had stopped responding. The attack was expected any time after dawn.
Marc turned to ask if Angela wanted to take Adrian’s suggestion and found her already moving that way. “I need a workout.”
Marc’s heart thumped in worry and desire, and he followed her to the hayroom, distracted from his fears of tomorrow.
Angela had her own terrors and she was grateful to Adrian for recognizing her need. He knew a few hours alone with Marc would help her steel her resolve.
She thought about calling Charlie and making it a family moment, but he would know what they were planning as soon as he witnessed their grim faces. Let the boy have a last peaceful night with Matt and Dog before the world flipped on him again.
Emotions now brewing tightly, she hung her gun belt on a peg. “Kai?”
Marc gave her a warning look, unable to keep from glancing over her battle-scars. “Only the moves.”
“Agreed.”
Her tone was so formal that it drew a snort from Marc. “Relax, will ya?”
Angela frowned deeply, stiffening with fear. “Not sure if I can. All I see is darkness.”
Marc understood that was bad, but didn’t know what to say that would ease the panic lurking in her voice. He did know how to give her brief peace from it, though, and he grimaced as he realized Adrian had, too. There seemed to be no end to the man’s manipulations.
“I wish you’d try to see it from a different view.”
Not wanting to argue, Marc sighed in surrender. “Yes, dear.”
Angela laughed in surprise, aware of him sweeping her for clues as to who she was now. He was studying her, as if he was working a mystery. “How about we smoke one and play some cards? If you find us some mutated spiders, it’ll be like old times.”
Marc let out a noise of amusement and felt his bitterness fade. Set up by Adrian or not, he wanted this bonding time with her more than he wanted to stand his ground.
“How about we curl up in a corner with my bedroll and a joint, and wait for all Hell’s Day together?”
Angela’s body lit up at the thought of lying next to him and stealing the occasional kiss. “Deal.”
Minutes later, that’s exactly where they were.
Chapter Twenty-Two
All Hells’ Day
1
“It’s almost time.”
They hadn’t slept much, just dozed and enjoyed their last few quiet hours together. “I know.”
“You’re still going.”
Angela didn’t answer. He already knew. Instead, she snuggled into his warm safety and felt his arms tighten around her waist. “I love you.”
Marc felt the terrors rise and pushed them away the only way he could. He rolled Angela against the wall and slanted his lips over hers.
She answered his desperation with a wild clutch of his broad shoulders, tilting her lips up. My Brady!
Adrian paused in the flap, feeling the waves of panicked passion flowing from the hayroom. He turned toward camp. At least she’s in good hands, he thought, and swallowed the pain that came with it. He’d promised her happiness here and her relationship with Marc had a place in that.
Adrian’s stomach tightened. If they survived the slavers, he would get to witness Marc and Angela fall deeper in love. Being an unselfish leader who put his people first had some serious downsides and this one he wasn’t sure he would be able to take much of.
For now, he would try to be content that all the plans he’d made around her were safe. Everything was finally in place to create the world they’d been denied and all that stood in his way was one large group of Mexican guerillas.
Dawn was still an hour away as Adrian slid into the mess to join Neil and Doug. He put a single sheet of paper onto the table between them.
We’re going to war, Neil thought. A quiet excitement filled him, along with m
any questions, as he tilted the paper for Doug to view. He kept his mouth shut, though, aware of a third party lingering behind Adrian who was near enough to listen.
Doug, Adrian’s most overlooked man, kept quiet. He’d been waiting for this, sure their leader would strike out before the slavers struck this camp.
“We'll reach the mountains within 10 weeks, even if we only travel half that time and we need to handle something before we settle in for the winter.”
His tone was flat and Neil understood it was time to do what he had wanted to when Angie and Marc first came.
Cynthia edged closer.
Neil flashed a warning glower and she stopped, but didn't take the hint to go away. “Are they that near?”
Adrian was sure the rest of the camp would soon know, too. The reporter was very average in her white top and tan slacks, but he understood she was dangerous when she smelled a story. That was why she wouldn’t be here for the battle.
“Yes. Soon we'll all get a cozy winter of relaxation together,” Adrian said sarcastically. He spoke to Doug and Neil, “We'll leave right before lunch and we'll need 3-4 days’ worth of supplies. Get on it.”
Doug and Neil left, and Adrian tried not to jump as Angela appeared at his side, pushing a hot cup of tea into his hands. She was getting better and he tried not to let her feel his sadness or his jealousy at the happiness in her step.
Angela nodded politely at Cynthia, who she still considered a stranger, and then dug mercilessly into the reporter’s mind. Rick and Maria were lessons Angela would never forget and she was now searching all of them at every contact. It was exhausting.
The wind gusted as she and Adrian locked eyes. “Be at the mess in an hour.”
She hated the bloody images filling his mind, the fact that she was condoning it, and she leaned in, keeping her voice low. “I know we have to do something, but why does doing the right thing feel so wrong?”
He shook his head at the near mirror of Marc’s concern. “Never said we were doing the right thing. That wouldn't succeed anyway. These guys don't play by the rules. We're going out to do the one thing we can. Kill them or die trying.”
They continued on in silence, both aware of their follower.
She wants to go along.
Adrian didn’t respond to Angela’s thought. He knew and was counting on it, but for now, he left the reporter hanging.
“You think they’ll follow us?” Angela asked.
“I do.” Adrian gave her the truth. “Because you're going.”
Angela was pale, but determined. “So, we're the bait. What happens when he runs with the line?”
“We yank the bastard up and cut his head off.”
“Can I bother you for a minute?” Cynthia asked.
Angela felt Adrian’s satisfaction, and had to turn away from the fake annoyed glance he gave the reporter.
“Are you leaving?” Cynthia asked as soon as Angela left.
Adrian did a quick sweep. Clear…for now.
“We have some business to handle. Care to tag along? It’ll be dangerous,” he warned, thinking it would be more than she could resist. After all, what was a reporter without danger to write about?
Cynthia was surprised at the offer. She was ignored by them, so long as she pulled her shifts at babysitting and mess duty.
“What should I bring?” she asked, pretending his hard expression didn't make her feel like an outsider.
“An overnight kit and your gun. Be at the mess in half an hour.”
Her shoulders had slumped at his words. “I don't have a gun anymore. I feel very safe here.”
The words pleased Adrian, but he forced out a sigh of frustration, always playing the role he’d been born for. “Can you fire one?”
She shrugged, flushing as she remembered trying to bluff him down at their first meeting, with a weapon she had found. “Just pull the trigger?”
“There are two men getting the shooting class ready. Tell them I said to give you a crash course and your own weapon.”
“But won't they get mad? I'm–”
“Do you want to go or not?” Adrian barked, having to force it past the coldness sloshing into his heart.
“I’ll be there.” Cynthia headed for the class area. If the men got upset because she wasn’t scheduled, she would deal with it. There was no way she would miss this chance to be in the field again. She had heard enough to believe that Adrian was about to do something the sheep would either love him or loathe him for, and she would tell them everything.
Adrian did a sweep, seeing Angela had taken Charlie to the self-defense area for a fast lesson and few words of explanation. He thought there might be a problem with the teen, but there was only a quick hug. Adrian was comforted even more when Dog came from the high grass and sat down at the boy’s heels.
The wolf’s golden orbs were calm as he met Adrian eye across the distance.
The herd will be here.
Adrian grinned. You need a mate. It would be amazing to have all the camp’s workers come from your bloodline.
Dog sniffed the air curiously, but his tone in Adrian’s mind wasn’t interested.
With those common mutts? I’d have my breed die out before polluting it that way.
So, even animals were bigots. Who knew? Adrian shuffled his surprise to the rear of his mind.
He went to his tent and the two men now waiting there, not responding to the people trying to catch his attention to ask questions. With him and Angela leaving, and a lot of supplies going with them, the slavers wouldn't be the only ones to think they were jumping ship. It was all a part of the plan… Marc’s plan.
“I added a bit to your trap. Kyle and his men will be behind the razor wire,” Adrian stated as he entered the tent.
Marc instantly felt a little better. The Level Seven Eagles were deadly and all of them liked Angela, liked the thought of having their own magic. They would protect her.
Even after all that had happened, it never crossed his mind that she would be one of those actually involved in the battle.
“What else do you need?” Marc asked as Adrian sat down.
“A way for Kyle and his men to view the mess meeting that starts in half an hour. I don't want the camp or the slavers to see them. We need everyone to think we're less than two dozen people, choosing to run. Line up the trucks to block. For every four men who carry supplies in, only one or two will come out.”
Kenn was relaxing in the corner, feeling better, too. Kyle and his team had been on numerous missions and done well, from catching mutations for John's tests, to the executions of evil in the towns they passed through. They would handle this.
Catching the thought, Adrian hoped Kenn would keep quiet about the things the Eagles had done, but didn't tell him to. Maybe it would be better if the camp had a day or two to think about it anyway, and he left it to fate.
These Eagles were about to be exposed to the people they had been lying to, and Adrian hoped their success would help the camp accept the cover-up. He had warned these men from the beginning that the people they protected might turn on them when they finally found out the lengths the Eagles were going to in order to ensure that safety. They had all said they understood, but Adrian knew they hadn't, not then. They did now, though, had taken care of those few who had been banished, and it would make them determined not to make any mistakes.
Marc, who already had his pen and notebook out for the instructions he knew were coming, began writing.
“We'll be on the coded setup, so you'll be able to keep track of us all day, I think, and some of the night,” Adrian said. “You two have to get this camp ready to defend itself. Do it quick and openly. You'll have a few hours before we leave. Be inventive. Make a strong show and encourage them to take us instead. They're aware something's going on by now and they’re watching, deciding. It’ll make our little caravan an easy target in comparison.”
His instructions to Kenn were simple. “You're in charge and everyone knows tha
t. They'll listen to you, if you're careful with your words and always put them first. If we're not able to come back, get these people moving towards those mountains and make your stand there, not out here in the open. If we're not there in a week, there are notebooks inside my mattress that you’ll need. I expect you to keep working on my dreams.”
Kenn nodded, pleased and scared.
“Damn.” Adrian blew out a sigh. “I wish I could take you guys.”
“You sound like you're not coming back,” Marc stated stiffly, only Angie’s reaction keeping him onboard with this suicide run. She wanted him here to defend their son and he couldn’t deny her need.
“It's a good plan, one of the best I've ever used,” Adrian informed them coldly. “If we do it right, it's the slavers who won't return.”
2
“Everyone here?”
They were all gathered in the mess, sitting and standing around one picnic table in the middle as the rain fell softly. All of them were aware that they were about to engage the enemy and the mood was somber. Some of the familiar faces under this canvas might not return.
“The slavers are here. Mitch took a call.”
Neil pushed the button on the tape player and Angela paled at the evil coming out in waves from the speakers. It was the first time she’d heard them.
“You listen, and maybe I won't kill all your Eagles. You will deliver food, water, and women two nights from now or we will come in and take them.”
“And if we do this, do we have your word that you'll go away and leave us alone?”
Some of those listening frowned at Adrian's words, his willingness to deal, but most of them understood he was trying to avoid more bloodshed.
The slaver's voice held no warmth, though he chuckled like he was amused.
“No, Señor. We will stay by you and maybe settle with you when you reach the mountains. To seal the deal, you will send us the witch with the supplies. You have had the advantage for a long time, but now she will use her magic for us!”
There was static and a lot of noise in the background. Bikes, gunshots, voices, dogs barking and the occasional female scream. It was menacing and those listening were proud of the steel in Adrian's answer.
